On a night

Black as Arabica grain

I settle into the serene

And decide to write this page

A Page of wanderlust

Cerebral on coastal shores

Sip from the cup

As there is a squeak from a door

The stirrings of the day

Yawning to begin

Coffee is grand

If not a grain of morning time sands

Sometimes there is green

A cup served too thin

And sometimes

2AM is when I begin

A day

A Day Anew

Those days though weary

A better than the rushed ones without percolations of Java set to brew

Mr. Coffee and I?

We’re thick as thieves

That is why I say I’ll take another cup please

And one after that

Because morning are best

When the burro is packed

With burlap bags

They help with my eye bags

And keep me from having a sailors tongue

I believe mornings are better

With Columbia’s Sunshine filtered from pot to mug to tongue

Coffee makes me feel like a mountain

Resilient and strong

Until I crash into the valley

And switch from writing poem to writing song

So fly on my sweet readers

And brew your self a smile

Life may be a bit of a rat race

But that’s why coffee can be made weak or strong

A boost to the engine of engineering

Where matter is grey

Nootropic from the tropics

You have earned this Ode of the Day